Black Tears
by Winter-Faerie.X
Summary: Sara sees only one route of escape after some terrible news...first story in ages, please R&R!


**A/N: Hay, I am still alive, and I'm back! :) I'll admit, it's been a while. But, it's not my fault! I've had exams & stuff to worry about, which is my excuse for not posting anything for the past 8 months. Lets hope that I'm not to rusty and out-of-practice.**

**Anyway, on with my latest story 'Black Tears'. Set it whenever you like, I have no idea where to put it on an episode timeline. And, yeah, sorry, whilst I like GSR and whatnot, PureJoy still rock my world. I'm 16, don't ruin life dreams for me just yet.**

**Warning: Contains self harm. If you don't like it, or are not old enough for this kind of thing, click the little 'Back' button. Now. Do it. Have you done it yet? If not, why not? :) Anyway...**

**Black Tears**

Sara didn't think of a time when emotional hell had been so close, at least not in recent years. All of the childhood years she'd spent in hell, it had never been as bad as it had been tonight.

She'd spent months getting over Gil, (or coping with 'stress' as was put on her medical form), and she could not deny his leaving had hurt, but she'd been sure she was ready. Ready to face him, ready to face her colleagues and ready to face the world again. The office's annual party had seemed just destined for her 'debut', so to speak. She'd bought herself an expensive dress, had her hair and make-up done professionally, and as far as she could say, was ready for this. So grabbing her newly bought purse and keys, he headed out of her apartment door and into the Las Vegas night.

Actually arriving at the party, she'd felt a little nervous, and had spent a good 10 minutes in the car simply calming her nerves. Eventually, she took a deep breath and opened the door. She stepped out, locked her the car and headed inside.

Once she got past the crowds that had inconsiderately decided to congregate near the door, she immediately spotted Greg at the bar and headed over to him. He had his back turned to her, so she crept up behind him quickly, putting her lips close to his ear,so as to be heard above the music, she purred loudly, 'Hey Greg.' He jumped, then looked to see the source of the noise.

'Wow, Sara, you look amazing' he gushed sincerely. He smiled at her and added 'Can I buy you a drink?'

'Okay, but just one, I'm driving' she smiled in reply.

It was at this moment that she turned away from the bar and caught sight of the door through which she had just entered. Only now, He was there, talking to a short brunette. Sara took a second to analyze their body language, how their heads were very close, was this attraction, or necessary in order to carry out a conversation? The way he was leaned over her as she was leaned against the door frame, the fake-nailed hand that occasionally came into contact with his shoulder. She quickly looked away, just as Greg received her drink from the bartender. What had seemed like the eternity the image of Gill with the brunette woman had, in fact, only been a minute or two. She took the glass filled with vodka from Greg and, in three gulps, the entire contents of the glass were burning Sara's throat as they flowed into her bloodstream. She slammed the glass onto the bar and looked at Greg who was staring at her like she'd just announced she were in fact the person who shot JFK. She couldn't help but laugh at his expression.

'Thirsty?' he asked, still looking bewildered.

'Must have been.' she replied, motioning to the bartender to refill the glass.

'Well, I have to run. Warrick wanted to see me for something earlier. I better run' Greg quipped quickly. He didn't wait for a reply, but instead ducked into the crowd.

It was just was well for Sara. She didn't want Greg to see her downing more vodkas. She didn't want to have to explain why she was now mentally planning on ordering glass after glass. How she'd end up kidding herself that each glass was the last, and that she was in control. She didn't want to have to explain that the demon of drink was going to be her unconventional savior tonight, how she needed it because...because she was kidding herself. She was nowhere near over Gil.

*******

2 hours, and several vodkas, whiskeys and shots later, Sara felt that some of the pain that had been ripping her stomach apart earlier was now fading. She had claimed a table for herself, on the surface of which the once-full glasses of alcohol were now cohabiting. Her hair and makeup were now far from the perfect state they'd been in when she'd left her apartment earlier.

Suddenly, Sara felt a familiar hand on her shoulder. All of a sudden, the feeling was back, ripping through her like an insatiable beast, claiming every fiber of her body, and causing her to sober almost instantly.. She looked up, and saw Gil staring back at her.

'Sara?' he stammered 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine Gil.' she replied firmly, forcing a smile onto her face.

Gil looked around awkwardly for a moment, as if unsure what to say. Then he pulled up an empty chair and sat beside her. So close, Sara could feel his warm breath on her skin, smell his shampoo and see each of the few gray hairs that intruded in his thick, dark hair. She remembered each of the times she had tangled her fingers in those locks, pulling him to her. The start of the incredible times where he overpowered her, made her lose control as desire, lust and carnal hunger claimed her body, as he possessed her with all the raw power and intensity of a thunderstorm. Keeping their romance a secret from their co-workers had definitely added spice to their relationship. He cleared his throat and spoke again.

'How..um...have you been?' he finally managed to stutter, causing her to come crashing back into reality,

'Okay I guess. You?' she answered, never losing the fake smile. She couldn't afford to. Not now.

'Uh, yeah. Fine.' he replied. Sara noticed that he would not look her in the eye. Suddenly, he spoke again.

'Sara, I...' he began, when Jim appeared from nowhere, and leaned down to whisper something into his ear. He left as quickly as he came, and Gil flashed her an apologetic glance, the first time he'd made eye contact with her since sitting down.

'I have to go' he explained guiltily. He stood quickly and made his exit. The second he was out of sight, the smile on Sara's face vanished, and she slumped back into her chair, letting out enough air to help a hot air balloon take flight.

'I have to get out of here' she thought 'I can't be here any more. Not with him. Not now. Not ever.' She sat up ramrod straight and started fumbling around for her purse. As she located it, the music died and a spotlight hit the stage. She looked up to see Jim heading for a microphone. He cleared his throat and started to speak

'Ladies and Gentlemen' he boomed through the room 'First off, I'd like to thank you all for coming. It's been great seeing everybody tonight' he continued, glancing in Sara's direction with warm eyes before pressing ahead 'But, I have an announcement to make. I'm delighted to tell you all that our Graveyard shift supervisor, Gilbert Grissom, and his second-in-command, Miss Catherine Willows, have FINALLY decided to tie the knot. Congratulations to you both!'. The spotlight moved to a blushing Catherine on the side of the stage, a similarly embarrassed Gil with his arms protectively encircling her waist.

As soon as the words left Jim's mouth, Sara's body went numb. It felt like an out-of-body moment, as if it wasn't her destiny to be hearing this news. As soon as she regained some control, she snatched up her purse, scraped her chair back from the table and stormed out of the bar, pushing through through the people still near the door.

Nobody noticed her leave, except Gil. He had begged Jim not to announce the news in this way, but there was no reasoning with the man when he'd had as many whiskeys as Jim had gotten friendly with tonight. As soon as the dreaded announcement was made, in the milliseconds before the spotlight glared at him, he had watched her. Seen her face cloud, then her jaw set firmly as she left the bar and escaped into the harshness of the Las Vegas night. He wished he could follow her, explain to her, but he stood no chance.

*******

Sara drove slowly, due the fact she couldn't see straight. It was nothing to do with the alcohol, she knew, for she was all to sober now, after her 'conversation' with Gil, and the announcement that burned her to the core. The tears obscured her vision, blending the lights of the strip into one mosaic of color.

Somehow, she managed to find her way home. She burst through her apartment door, and slammed it shut, immediately falling back against it and taking several short, sharp, deep breaths to compose herself. She then pushed herself up and headed for the bathroom. She wanted nothing more than a steaming shower, a chance to get out of this dress, get rid of this hair, this makeup. She wanted to burn away the memories now etched into her mind, and burn away the prickling feeling that was crawling under the surface of her skin. She felt as though they belonged to a different person now, a person with a perfect life, who oozed confidence from every core. A truly independent person, who needed nobody in her life to complete. Not like the broken ghost of a woman Sara saw in the mirror. 'No wonder Gil left me', she thought. 'Who would want me, this..rag doll of a woman? I'm plain, simple, boring. Any woman is preferable to be.'

Upon entering the bathroom, Sara unbuttoned her dress, letting it pool at her feet before stepping out gingerly. She removed the rest of her clothes, then turned on the shower and stepped inside. She let the water cascade over her skin for a few moments before starting to clean herself up. Now that she was alone, she let the feelings out. She cried, letting the salty tears course down her rouged cheeks and fall into the small pool below that was headed for the plughole. She sank down to the floor and let out animalistic wails, of fury, scorn, jealousy and heartbreak. Then, she silenced. The water still poured down over her.

'Why couldn't I be pretty?' the thought swarmed around her head. Looking up, she saw it. In her fragile mental state, it looked like a best friend, warm, supporting, inviting. Ready to help her release herself from this tornado of emotions, if only for a short while. Sara had not felt this feeling for years, at least not since her teens. Back then, it had been a daily activity, necessary to help her cope with the cruel life she was encased in. Tonight, it was her key to escape. Her way to a life free of these non-reciprocated emotions.

Gil was not feeling this way. He was happy, looking forward to a new chapter in life with a gorgeous woman. She was left alone to suffer the hellish wreckage her life and mind had become. Escape, if only for a short while, was an intoxicating idea, taking control of every part of her. She did not have to suffer alone anymore now.. Her friend would help her. She knew it. She reached up and grasped the handle. It felt familiar in her hand, like an odd safety blanket. She twisted it round to get a better grip, then closed her eyes. Release felt so much better when you couldn't see it.

She felt no pain as the shiny tip of the blade broke the delicate lily-white skin of her long legs. She felt no regret as the thin line of blood trickled down and joined the tears of earlier. She heard no conscious thought telling her to stop as she moved the blade to another part of her legs.

Sara did not know how long it took her to relax and for the feelings to leave her completely, but once they did, Sara stood, shakily, and rinsed herself off, watching the crimson water flow away. She stepped out of the shower. She grabbed a towel and carefully wound it around herself.

She looked up and into the reflection in the partially condensated bathroom mirror. She took in the black tear tracks that still lined her cheeks, and the thin red marks that were scattered over her arms and legs. They joined the old scars, those that had long since faded, but never left her, much like the memories. One day, these new marks would fade to, but for now she was a blend of old and new, with no coherent beginning and no coherent end.

And as she drank in the sight of herself, she let the vanity consume her soul. She was sure, THIS was the most beautiful she had ever looked. And Gil would never be able to see the works of art he had inspired.

**Soooo, what did yah think? Tell me, please. I was seriously unsure if I handled this issue with the true sensitivity and understanding it deserves.**


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